Nativity
by AAB
Summary: Harm and Mac close a case and start ... With Christmas everything is posssible


_Disclaimer: Not mine, Bellisario's_

_Spoiler "Yeah__, Baby"  
Harm: Tell you what. Five years from this moment if neither us are in a relationship, we go have ourselves a kid.  
Mac: You and me? Have a baby together?  
Harm: Yeah, with your looks and my brains he'll be perfect.  
Mac: And what if SHE has YOUR looks and MY brains?  
Harm: That could work too.  
[pause]  
Harm: So what do you say? Deal?  
Mac: Don't make a promise you can't keep.  
Harm: I haven't yet.  
[They shake hands]  
_

**Nativity  
**

_Last week of November  
Mac's apartment  
_Why had he said five years? Why not five days? Or weeks? Admitted, that would have been a bit too soon. But months? Or a year? Two years at the max?  
Right, she knew she was unreasonable. After all, his proposal had come out of the blue. 'Five years from this moment, if neither us are in a relationship, we go have ourselves a kid.' But since then it was all she could think of. She hadn't lied when she said she felt her biological clock ticking. In fact, since the birth of little AJ it was more a constant bang-bang-bang instead of a soft tick-tock, tick-tock. She wanted a baby and she wanted it now.  
With a wry chuckle she put the files she had tried to work on in her briefcase. Surely it had been a spur of the moment whim. Something he already regretted the moment after. It was not going to happen. Not now and not in five years. After all, he hadn't come back to the subject, had he?  
In the back of her head she knew she did him injustice. Harm kept his promises, or died trying. But she didn't feel very reasonable. She felt like a woman wanting a child. Period. No pun intended, no periods for nine moths, she chuckled wryly.  
With a sigh she stood up and headed for the closet where she kept her Christmas decorations. Maybe going through them and checking what she needed, or wanted, to buy this year would set her mind on other things.  
Ten minutes later she was still staring at the figurines of her nativity: Mary, Joseph and baby Jesus.

_December 3__th__  
Friday, 5pm  
_"What do you want, throw ourselves into the traffic jam or have a bite here and drive back home later?" Harm asked.  
"To be honest, I don't need food right now," Mac answered, avoiding an icy patch on the stairways.  
"_You _not wanting food?" In mock surprise Harm raised his brows and pointed a finger at her. "That must be a first."  
"Well, with what Mrs. Bentley provided us with …"  
Harm chuckled, knowing she was right. They just had left the house of Mrs. Bentley, widow of Gunnery Sergeant James Bentley, US Navy, who had died five months earlier. The woman just had been so grateful for what they had to tell she didn't know how to express herself and instead had buried them in cookies and pastry and had insisted on them taking a generous goodie bag home.

It had been a moving case. Only weeks before his retirement, on his final trip, James Bentley had suffered a minor stroke while supervising loading ammunition. He was rushed to the sick-bay. Moments later there was an explosion in the loading-space which killed two young sailors and injured three more.  
Preliminary investigation being inconclusive, the two families had sued the man for the death of their loved ones. They claimed that, already not feeling well, Bentley had made a terrible mistake prior to his exit to the hospital. They demanded a second thorough investigation, to be followed by a dishonourable discharge and a considerable compensation. In the meantime Bentley suffered a second, this time fatal stroke.  
It had taken Harm and Mac weeks of reading files and talking to witnesses and experts to find the real source; Bentley's young and inexperienced stand-in had failed to check on how many missiles already had been loaded and had tried to cramp in an extra one, thus causing the explosion.  
In court Gunnery Sergeant James Bentley now was completely acquitted of every possible wrongdoing. Dishonourable discharge was out of the window and his widow would have his full benefits.  
She had been so happy. "It is not the benefits," she had explained tearfully, "although they will come in handy, but the thought. The Navy was my husband's life and he was always meticulously in everything he did. He loved 'his boys' as he called them and the thought he was responsible for their deaths would have devastated him, even if it wasn't his fault. All those accusations in the papers … now I can hold my head high again. He is rehabilitated!"  
"Don't expect _that_ to be in the papers," Mac had warned her. "Bad news always sells better. Your husband's case might be in a small announcement at page 10, at the best."  
"I don't care; this verdict proves it all." She slammed her hand on the paper. "But what will happen now? I mean, will the families go after his stand-in?"  
"I don't think so," Harm answered. "First, that stand-in was one of the two casualties. Secondly, the other boy was his nephew."  
Mrs. Bentley looked up surprised.  
"Yes, their mothers are sisters. Suing his family will mean suing her own family and I don't think they will do that."  
"What a tragedy, two boys in one family," Mrs. Bentley sighed.  
There was a moment of silence until she started to speak again.  
"Tomorrow I'll start decorating. Before I didn't feel like it. But James loved Christmas and when he was home he decorated the whole house. He once brought me a nativity, from Israel, made of olive wood. He made me promise to always celebrate Christmas, even when he wasn't there. His family meant everything to him and Christmas is all about family, isn't it? First of course the Holy Family and then the celebration as family together."  
"Is your family coming over?" Mac asked.  
"Yes, my son and his family will be here from December 20th till after New Year and the other two will arrive the day before Christmas and will leave December 27." She blinked away a tear. "It won't be the first time without James but … if anything had gone according to plan he would have been retired end of August." She searched for her handkerchief and silently Mac handed her a tissue.  
After she had composed herself she stood and asked "Can I get you something else?"  
"Thanks but no, thanks," Harm answered for the two of them. "I guess we need to go; it's still a long drive back to Washington.  
Expressing her gratitude once more the lady had shown them out and they hadn't been able to eschew receiving a bag filled with homemade Christmas goodies.

Harm's voice jolted Mac out of her thoughts.  
"Well, what do you want, drive back now or later?"  
It had started to snow, large wet flakes, and the traffic was going dead slow. She didn't know and was about to tell Harm so when her eye caught a sign, pointing to a nearby church. 'Nativity exhibition' it read and the time it was opened: 1-9pm.  
"Can we go there?" she asked. "Have a look en then maybe have something to eat and drive back?" Her eyes pleaded and Harm was happy to humour her. He was glad she seemed to have shed the glum mood she had been in the previous weeks.  
Inside the church proved to be a lot bigger they had expected. In the apse was a life sized Nativity with mannequins for the main characters: Baby Jesus, Mary, Joseph, the shepherds and the three Magi. Stuffed animals, the oxen and the donkey, several sheep, a dog, a cat sitting on the manger and even a camel were present as well. In the aisle were long tables with nativities made of all kinds of materials, ceramics and wood, corn leaves and bamboo, coconut and stone, and in all sizes, from over two feet high to Mexican miniatures, only millimetres high made of matches. They came from all over the world: Japan, Australia, Africa, and South America. There were black and brown holy families, next to white and yellow. It was clear the artists all had depicted the story in their own surroundings leaving Jesus clad in fur in an Inuit setting or Mary with Chinese features.  
A special space was set up for the more funny ones: the ones in which animals like bears or cats fulfilled the roles of the characters.  
They lingered in the south transept, which housed a French scene: a large landscape including houses in which the whole village turned out to greet the King: merchants and beggars, butchers, lumberjacks and housewives, toddlers and elderly.  
When they left they were surprised to find they spend over an hour at the exhibit.  
"I guess traffic will be a lot lighter now," Harm said. "Let's pick up the car and take the same route back; I'm sure I saw some nice looking restaurants in the city's centre."

Waiting for their food to arrive Mac flipped through the booklet she had purchased in the church. It contained some information about the history of nativities, background information and of course the story of Christmas.  
"Did you know Joseph didn't want to marry Mary?"  
"Yes, "Harm nodded. "They weren't married yet when she became pregnant by the Holy Spirit and he thought she had been unfaithful to him. So he wanted to break up the engagement in silence, in order not to bring her in discredit. But an angel visited him in a dream telling him the baby was God-given and he should not hesitate to marry his fiancée. Which was just as good because a girl who had sex out of marriage, even if she had been raped, was prone to be stoned to death."  
Mac gasped. "How cruel!"  
Their meal was served and for a moment they were busy to satisfy their appetite. The meal halfway gone Harm spoke again.  
"You saw most of the times Joseph was depicted as an elderly or even as an old man. Did you know Joseph didn't want to marry Mary in the first place, thinking himself as too old for him."  
"No," Mac reacted curious. "How so?"  
"Well, legend has it that Mary was a temple child. That means she was dedicated by her parents Anna and Joachim to live and serve in the temple when she was old enough to leave her mother. Maria would have been three years old then. Anna was said to be infertileand giving the child back to God was a kind of 'thank you'. Like Samuel in the Old Testament."  
"How come you know so much about the Bible?" Mac wanted to know.  
"Thanks to Grams. She read me stories when I was a child and when I went to be an aviator she gave me a bible and made me promise to read in it once in a while. You don't have to believe, she said, but it's part of our culture as well and a lot of our morals and even laws are based on it. By the way, the stories about Maria being a temple child and how Joseph became e her groom are legends and are not described in in the Bible."  
"And, do you? Believe, I mean."  
Harm nodded thoughtfully. "Yes. I won't say I believe everything what's in the Bible. Not from cover to cover, so to say. There are too many things in it I can't grasp and too many inconsistencies. But I believe there is a God who stands for love and honesty and integrity and charity. A God who gives strength and inspires people to rise beyond themselves. And the Bible is a collections of stories about people and their God."  
"I think you're right," Mac agreed. "The story of God and people. I believe that, too. There must be something beyond our power to make people go that extra mile."  
Harm chuckled.  
"What?" she frowned.  
"Nothing. Except for that's an expression based on the Bible, too. Somewhere in the gospel according to Matthew, I believe."  
Mac shook her head. He never ceased to amaze her.  
"But you were telling about Joseph not wanting to marry Mary," she reminded him.  
"Yeah, right. So Mary was a temple child and when she reached puberty, age twelve, the priests wanted to find her a husband. But since she was a very special young woman they thought God Himself had to approve, so to say. They asked all available men to come to the temple and bring a wooden stick. Not a branch with still life in it, just a wooden stick or rod. All those sticks were to be placed in the temple, the door would be locked and God would pick one. But Joseph didn't want his rod to be the one and hid it in a corner. The next morning the priests came back in. At first they found nothing but then they discovered one of the rods had blossomed overnight and it turned out to be Joseph's. At first he refused, saying he was already a widower and had children. He didn't want to be ridiculed as the old cow who liked to eat the tender grass. But the priests persuaded him, telling him it was God's will. So he became Mary's groom. That's why you often see him on pictures as an grey-bearded man with a staff with flowers."  
"And he became Jesus' stepdad," Mac added. "So Mary didn't have to raise her son all by herself."  
"No." Harm covered her hand with his. "And neither have you. It was never my intention to have you raise our child all by yourself."  
Mac could only stare at him. Before she could react the waitress neared their table to ask whether they want dessert. Harm ordered coffee for both of them, wanting her to leave as soon as possible so Mac would say something. But she didn't. Her eyes lowered she pensively stirred her coffee.

It wasn't before they were on their way back to the car Mac started to talk.  
"Did you mean it?"  
"That you don't have you raise our child alone?"  
"That too. But … everything. You must admit it was a big thing to promise."  
"It was also a big thing to accept. But yes, I meant it and I mean it."  
"Why did you propose it?"  
"I don't know …. it was just … a flash of insight, I guess. I realized …" He shook his head. "It was all so … complicated, confusing … There were a million thoughts … feelings … Did you never had an occasion where you saw something and knew, just knew is was perfect? At that moment I could see you pregnant. And I was … jealous I guess, at the man fathering your child. Being a family with you. I knew I wanted to be that man."  
Mac was stunned.  
"But why five years then?" she whispered after a moment. "I mean, so much could have happened."  
"It just came out that way. I … I needed time … you know me, I can be a real worrier. I needed time to figure out the bumps in the road, like fraternization-rules. Or how to handle the loss of our friendship if it didn't work out. And …" He hung his head. "I wanted to give you time enough to get out if you wanted. I mean, it was a spur of the moment agreeing as well."  
"Yes, but five years! Why not five months? Or a year? Or two? That has to give you time enough."  
"I know." There was silence for a moment as they walked on.  
"If you would make the same proposal today, would you still say five years?"  
Slowly he shook his head.  
"I take it you still would accept?" he asked tentatively.  
She nodded.  
"I would say …" he trailed. "I would suggest to give ourselves a year to establish a relation we feel good about to start a baby ..." He ran his hand over his face, frustrated with his own clumsiness.  
"You mean, when we decide to bring a baby into this world we must be sure there is a stable, loving family to welcome him?" Mac said.  
"Yes," Harm answered relieved.  
"Okay."

_A year later  
Mac's home  
_Mac was happy. She had woken up with a considerable to-do-list in her head but had managed to work her way through most of it. Sitting on the couch she ticked off: cleared the dishwasher, did the laundry, tidied the living and bedroom, changed the bedding, cleaned the bathroom and went out grocery-shopping.  
She had picked up some food at a small Indian caterer she recently had discovered. Harm loved Indian food, especially for its wide variety of vegetarian dishes. She knew he would want to cook a lot over the next few weeks; she was sure he would have missed it for it always relaxed him and he loved to pamper her with her favourite dishes. But tonight the curry and rice would only need a few moments of reheating.  
She looked down on her right hand and smiled. Their first Christmas together as a married couple.  
What a year it had been! That first talk and the first date had been followed by many more. Already during the first days they had decided to table making love for the moment and concentrate on their relation. After all, they both had their share of baggage. In hindsight: it had proved to be a wise decision. It hadn't been smooth sailing all the time. As Harm had said: he was a bit of a worrier en needed time to mull over things. Learning to talk about feelings had taken time. She had to learn things of her own, too, being less pushy and giving Harm time to express himself how clumsy and unarticulated he might be at that moment being one of them. Next to that, having lived on their own for a long time, they had to learn sharing space. Especially since they still lived in her small apartment.  
Unfortunately their honeymoon was cut short, due to a conflict in the Far East. What was supposed to be a two week TAD now had become five weeks. It had put looking for a larger house on the backburner. But yesterday there had been a mail: I'll be home tomorrow. Home! She couldn't wait.  
The only thing left to do was to decorate. Nipping her tea she imagined how she wanted it. The tree was already standing and a garland of fake pine adorned the mantle. She would hang stars in it, she decided, and set up her nativity on the mantle itself. The baubles and tinsel would go into the tree, as well as the special decorations she had collected over the years. Among them were four miniature nativities Harm had presented her with over the last year. One he given her the day after their first talk, one that Christmas, one the day he proposed and one at their wedding. Again she smiled reminiscently. A year to the day, at the first birthday of little AJ, a proud Admiral led her down the aisle to the spot the love of her life was waiting for her. She was pretty sure there would be a fifth nativity with the presents under the tree.  
Draining her cup she rose and started with the tree, singing along with the music coming from the stereo. 'Away in a manger, no crib for his bed …'  
She hung a large wreath on the door and candles went in several spots, ready to be lit. Last thing to do was the mantle, hanging the stars and finally arranging the nativity: Mary, Joseph, the angel, shepherds and their flock, the three wise men. She smiled when she put down the manger. Everything was ready, he could come.

And there he was and she launched herself into his arms. He held her tight and buried his face in her hair.  
"Those last hours seemed to take forever," he sighed. "It's so good to be home."  
She lifted her head for his kiss. "I love you."  
"I love you, too."  
The next hour was spent cuddled on the couch catching up. Then Mac rose to bring the cups to the kitchen and heat the food.  
"Can you light the fire, please?"  
Dutifully Harm did as he was asked. When he rose his eye fell on the nativity and he frowned.  
"Where is baby Jesus? And what is this?" He held up the rolled up piece of paper he found in the manger.  
Mac stood in the kitchen's doorjamb.  
"Go have a look," she said, hiding her excitement.  
With a surprised expression on his face Harm untied the little ribbon holding the paper and watched an unclear picture unroll. It was an almost abstract composure of grey blobs and smudges.  
"What am I looking at?" he asked, turning towards her.  
Mac had trouble to keep the tears at bay.  
"The first picture of your son or daughter," she all but whispered hoarsely.  
"My son or daughter? What? How?"  
Despite her emotions Mac had to chuckle.  
"Harm, I'm sure you remember about the birds and the bees and what we did the first week of our marriage."  
He walked over to her and placed his hand on her abdomen.  
"You're pregnant?" he asked in awe.  
Mac nodded silently, too full to speak. Her arms slipped around his waist and she clung unto him. They stood for a long time until he spoke.  
"I'm so happy."  
Mac nodded, tears in her eyes.  
"Me too." She reached up to kiss him. "Thank you."  
"For what."  
"For your flash of insight. And your courage to act on it."

The end

MERRY CHRISTMAS TO ALL OF YOU


End file.
